The Gift of Love
by MasterMind13
Summary: The stitchpunks decide to have a secret Santa for the holidays. When 1 suddenly gets 9 as his recipient, it brings up all these undiscussed feelings. What he doesn't know is that the savior feels the same. 1x9. Minor 7x8. Allusions to 5x6


**Hi, everyone! :D It's me with a new fanfic! Another Christmasy one. =D This is another go at 1x9. ^_^ I've been wanting to try this again since the last one, which was literately published a year ago. O.O**

**This story goes out to my best friend, darkgirl11. Merry Christmas, Brittany. :D**

**Also, 3's a boy, and 4's a girl in this story. Just thought I'd let you in on that. :) **

**The title's a pun with phrases. You get the idea. ^_^**

* * *

Snowflakes danced gracefully in an enthralling gala before they hit the ground, covering the earth with an endless blanket of white. The ruined town laid in a silence that rang out, the white sheet rocking the tension away to be replaced with bliss. The haunting gray clouds stretched on beyond the Emptiness from one end to the other.

The library was moderately busy. Outside on the courtyard, the nine stitchpunks explored the strange, white fluffs of snow falling from the sky. They had never seen this phenomenon before and seeing it was riveting. Despite the cold, the snow made the time outside enjoyable.

3 and 4, dressed in doll-sized coats brough home from a scouting, picked up a pile of snow and threw it in the air, watching it fall. 4 flickered her optics, a smile across her lips. A thought flew into her mind, which she and her brother were also keen on doing. Several days ago, the twins read through a book they found in one of the shelves and learned about a holiday called Christmas. It hooked them immediately: the traditions, ranging from the Christmas tree to the gift-giving. It amazed them so much that they shared it with the others. The first ones they told it about was 2 and 5. The inventor was familiar with this holiday, having heard of it before in the years past. Because of the state the world was in 2 didn't find any point in celebrating it. With how things were now, he thought celebrating Christmas sounded like a grand idea.

5 was also intrigued by the holiday. He thought of it was a means to liven everyone up, pull them out of their monotony. He and the twins thought of the idea to have everyone give each other presents. After careful explaining the twins convinced 6 to write down the names of the stitchpunks, place them in a box and then have everyone pick out a name and that selected candidates would be their surprise secret Santa. That was the name of the activity, which is what made it more fun.

All this happened and a few of the stitchpunks were on the cuspid of finding a present for their candidate. Since there were only nine of them, it only made it logical that perhaps four out of the nine weren't nearly close to finding a gift. Or at least one of them wasn't.

1 did the drawing, which he found pointless, but did it if only it would humor the others. The name he pulled out of the box was 9. He was thrown back by this on account of not knowing what to get him for a gift and the other reason meant that he would have to admit to something he'd been keeping secret for a while.

The elder leader thought the drawing was rigged on purpose. 1 couldn't think of any other explanation. He spent the last few days contemplating his idea for a gift and how to word out how he feels about him. It seemed only fair that he told 9 how important he was to him.

He talked to the other stitchpunks. Apparently, 6 got 8 as his secret Santa. 7 got 2 as hers, although that might have been a coincidence. He wondered who got him as their secret Santa. Whoever it was, 1 was hoping the gift-giving would be easier for them than for him. Right now he was running out of options.

He hoped this gift-giving was worth it.

* * *

Several days went by until Christmas Day arrived. No one had a calendar at hand, so keeping track of days was sometimes hard. But they managed. The twins were crossing out tallies on a sheet of paper to count down the days till Christmas. So far, eleven days passed, and only fifteen more until the big day. The twins and 6 were excited about Christmas. They even had 8, 5 and 9 get a Christmas tree. Since they had to make do with that they had, 8 cut up a dead rosebush from the garden and brought it inside. 5 and 9 placed it near the fountain, planted onto a small pot with some loose dirt from the garden.

7 went scouting the day before and brought back decorations for their tree. The supplies she brought home were tinsel, spherical baubles, miniature gold bells, candy canes and a gold star. Putting up the tinsel, baubles and bells were easy to place, but the star became a bit of a challenge. 8, the twins, 6 and 7 pushed a couple of books on top of each other to make stairs and with 8's help he lifted 3 and he was able to put the star on top. Good thing the star was lightweight. The baubles, bells, the star on top; the result: the tree was a decayed marvel that only appeared poorer with the decorations. It may be a dried rosebush, but it was their Christmas tree.

Almost all the stitchpunks had gotten their presents ready for the exchanging. 1 was nowhere near finding a gift. And he wondered if he was even worth this gift exchange.

1 wasn't usually this melodramatic, but for this, he definitely was. Seeing how it was obvious he had never done this before, he would fretting over thus until the last minute and disappoint everyone including himself.

_I know he's not going to feel the same way_, he thought to himself as he sat down on a brick. He watched the snow outside through the window. Snow was coming down in a small drizzle. Watching it brought forth a swift rush of nostalgia. _But I should still try to do this. I participated after all. But where should I start?_

That was indeed the question. Where? He hadn't ventured out since the snow started preferring to stay inside. There certainly wasn't anything in the library that would pass for a suitable present. 1 knew that this had to be a meaningful, well-thought-out gift. Almost everyone was through getting their gifts in time for Christmas. He was probably the only one. Who hadn't even started. Everything around him was lackluster and common. With the holiday nearing and time running out, 1 swallowed his pride and made his decision. He stood up, walked up to the doorway, his fear fading away.

A box filled with doll-sized cloaks and coats was placed beside the doorway. 1 picked out a navy blue coat, donned it on and walked out the open doorway. Snow drifted in the air, stretching on the earth like an endless white blanket. The elder stitchpunk traipsed down the stone stairs, huffing out a breath. The only ones that were outside were the twins, 6, 7 and 5. All of them didn't notice 1 or feel his presence, they were all distracted by a pile the twins were collecting. It looked like they were trying to build a snowman.

He walked past the group unnoticed and made it out the iron gates. With everything piling on top of him, 1 hoped for the best and venture into the snowy wasteland.

1 had been wondering for a while. He passed several dilapidated buildings, looking at the mountains of rubble, but nothing clicked. Nothing came to him. Everything felt empty, incomplete. He wasn't sure if it was his surroundings that felt empty or his soul.

_Since that day we came back, I felt guilt._ 1 thought, trudging through the snow-ridden streets. Guilt of being brought back, of being back to life. _I should've stayed dead. I don't deserve to be alive._

He stopped by an old building. A street lamp laid broken in half on the sidewalk. Broken glass laid scattered on the ground, light reflecting off their surfaces in a blink. The dark broken windows resembling unblinking eyes, judging and cold.

_There's got to be a reason we've been resurrected._ 1 pondered. _A second chance. Second chance. I thought I got my second chance once we were brought back. I thought that was enough._

He taxed his mind to remember all the events past. He remembered when 7 brought him to the library, and he remembered the unending pain in his hand. A few fingers were blown off in the explosion. 5, who had been found before him, with 9's help tended to repairing his hand. The pain was still unbearable after he had new fingers. 5 needed to tend to 8 after 7 brought him home, so 9 was left to care for him. Unsure of what to do, 9 placed a pile of fabric swathes on top of his hand, hoping it would ease the pain. To his surprise, 1 felt the pain mitigate to a certain degree. 9 took it a step further and gently give 1's arm long strokes. The elder found himself enjoying it and he felt something deeper in him. He felt himself drawn to 9. Although he stubbornly tried to deny it, he wasn't going to go another lifetime without telling him how he felt. He had to get this done and over with. Finding a gift was still harder than it looked, and he still hadn't gotten a solid idea.

_Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way_, he thought. He looked down at the ground, then at the sky. Where could he possibly start?

Suddenly he came up with something. 1 took off in a sprint.

The Scientist's home was only a few blocks away. He recognized this street, he remembered it from years ago. He was in the clear. All he had to do was go down this road, then take a left and keep going straight. By the time he reached the next corner, he made a right and kept waking that direction until he saw something familiar come into view.

The memorial.

Five crosses for him and the other four. Snow piled on top of the crosses. The fabric on each cross bearing the number of each: 1, 2, 5, 6 and 8. He looked at his own cross, a look of mixed worry on his face. Every memory of his death raced in his mind. He felt every shred of fear in each shade. Standing here, 1 was grateful for everything he'd learn in the long run. And now here he was where it all started, where they all came to life; the First Room.

Climbing up the stairs wasn't big of a challenge, but still 1 had to be careful on account of the ice shellacking the steps. Thank goodness for his sharp claw-like hands. Once inside he went up another flight of stairs and made a right. The door to the Scientist's workshop was opened ajar. Traipsing inside he saw the years worth of dust and decay. Stacks upon stacks of books sat on the desk and on the floor. Papers laid scattered on the hardwood floor. The obvious site was the Scientist's corpse. Normally, this would make 1 cringe and turn away, but this time, he was looking at his creator. There was the box with the message for 9. The worst was over and now they could start again. After this winter ends, spring will arrive and with it the return of plant life. It would take a couple of more years for everything else to return.

Looking around the room, he caught everything in sight. He wondered what would make a perfect gift. It had to be something personal. Something worth showing. Something that 9 would never forget. He searched through the piles of paper. Under the desk. In one of the credenzas. All he found there was nothing. Nothing worth presenting. Just files, blueprints, notes and diagrams. Perhaps there was nothing in here, but perhaps...

1 took off running into the hall, his sights set on the door on the other side of the building. The door was slightly open. The Scientist's bedroom. Stepping inside he looked from the bed to the wardrobe to the window. Unlike the workshop, the ceiling was intact and the room looked suitable to be lived in. There surely had to be something in here he could find.

The elder climbed on to the bed and walked up towards the nightstand. A lone lamp stood sadly. Dust had covered its shade for wants seemed like years. 1 turned over and spotted a desk—looking at it more closely—he saw that it was a vanity. He doubted the Scientist had time for grooming while the war was raging on. But he nonetheless jumped off the bed and walked over to it. The vanity was obviously too high for him to reach but he needed to see something. The chair was right next to the vanity. 1 removed his coat and began his ascend. Once he was on top of the chair he made a leap for the edge of the vanity. Almost stumbling back, 1 regained his balance and explored the desk.

The mirror was layered in dust and there was a small crack on the top right corner. Down in front of him was a picture frame of the Scientist and his wife and children. Looking at the photo, 1 could feel the happiness among them. It was strange how he could feel something for someone he didn't know too well. Across the vanity was a hairbrush, a pair of scissors, a comb and bottle of hand cream. 1 knew full well that stitchpunks had no need for such necessities, so he ignored them. Turning around, he walked over to the picture frame and to find something that might be hidden behind it. He saw a small silver ring. Picking it up, he examined the diamond on top. Bringing it closer to the light he saw how it threw back the light in iridescent colors.

Judging by the looks it was a wedding ring. It looked like the one the Scientist was wearing in the photo. That was when it came to him.

"No, I can't—" 1 dropped the ring and walked away. Sitting down on the edge of the vanity, he let his inferno rage. _I want to be with him, but I'm afraid of admitting it. I know I'm right about that. It's a foolish act._

A wave of silence swept through for what seemed like eternity.

"But it couldn't hurt to try," spoke 1, "at least." He stood on his feet, jumped onto the chair and then jumped down to the floor. Picking up his coat he donned it back on and went on his way.

He finally had an idea for a gift.

* * *

Christmas Day.

The sun shone through the windows of the library. The silence of the library would soon be snuffed out by the coming excitement. The makeshift Christmas tree stood in its spot by that the fountain, baubles glittering in the faint light. The star on top was leaning toward the side.

The time for exchanging gifts was drawing near. 1 drew the curtain he used for a door and spotted the twins with their gifts in tow. They were definitely ready. Readier than him, and 1 was wishing for a little more time to prepare himself. He drifted back into his room. On the block of wood he used for a table was the present he had for 9. After that brief visit to the Scientist's home prompted the elder to begin his search for a gift.

It was after seeing that ring did he get inspiration. He searched in the rubble and the debris. He found a suitable-looking diamond, almost like the one on the ring. 1 uncovered a a silver chain. Along with that, three days ago he found a silver cradle to place the diamond in it and tied the chain around the loop. Now it was safely placed in that silver box, waiting to be gifted.

He picked up the box and left his room.

Everyone was gathered around the Christmas tree and that was where all the tension began bubbling inside him. Almost everyone was seated on the floor or on cushions. They had their presents ready to be exchanged. 1 breathed in joined in.

Sitting between 7 and 5, he regarded everyone's presence accordingly. 1 spent the entirety of the coming holiday by his lonesome. Nobody necessarily questioned it, but they assumed it was for the secret Santa. He wondered who would be up first.

To his surprise, 3 and 4 announced to be the first to start.

'_My brother and I_,' flickered 4 through her optics, '_would like to begin, seeing how it was our idea._' She fiddled with the wrapped present she held. Teetering between speaking and a bit of stage fright, she continued, '_This is my gift to 7._'

"Aw, me?," spoke 7, raising a stitched brow. 4 walked up to 7 handed her the gift. It was wrapped in red-and-white striped paper. It must've taken 4 a lot of patience to cut the paper in an even straight line. The pale stitchpunk took the present and set it down on her lap. She unwrapped it, opened the small box and was met with an elaborate silver dress. Grabbing it by its silver straps, 7 pulled it out to examine it better. It had a small train and the look radiate grace and refinement. Casual in appearance, it's a relaxed fit: not too showy, not too formal.

"Oh, thank you," said 7. "It's beautiful." She gave 4 a quick hug and just as quickly pulled away.

'_Try it on_,' insisted 4.

Even though 7 didn't want to, she couldn't deny her request. 7 stood up and slipped the dress on with ease. Smoothing the skirt down, she looked at the dress curiously. Below the waist, the dress reached the floor and the train dragged on the floor like a tail.

"It looks lovely," said 2 with a smile.

"Thank you, 2," chuckled 7. She turned around, picking up her present. "Speaking of which," she said as she spun around, "I got yours right here." She walked over to him. "Merry Christmas."

"Oho, thank you, 7," said 2. 7 handed him the small green box, most like used for storing earrings, but in this case, it didn't contain earrings. The inventor opened it and to his surprise, it was a new hammer that she cobbled out of miscellaneous parts. "This is remarkable." 2 picked up the hammer, holding it up to see its craftsmanship from every angle.

"I know," retorted 7. "It took me four days to find parts that would fit."

Setting the hammer down, 2 gave 7 a well-deserved hug. "I love it, 7. Thank you."

"You're welcome, 2." 7 gently patted his back. After pulling away she returned to her seat across from him.

3 flickered his optics. '_This is my present to 6._'

6, who had gone visibly unnoticed, lifted his head in alertness. He blinked his mismatched optics. The hooded stitchpunk traipsed up to the striped artist, holding out his wrapped present. 6 took the present tentatively, examining it as though it were going to hurt him. He discarded the shiny paper and was taken aback by the gift. It was a bottle of emerald green ink. The striped stitchpunk widened his optics, mesmerized by the metallic shine of the ink.

"What do you say, 6?," chimed 7, facing the striped artist.

"Th-Th-Thank you," stuttered 6, looking at 3. The striped stitchpunk became more nervous as he pulled his own present he had to give. Spotting 8 seated to the far left, 6 rose to his feet, gift in hand, and approached the tall guard. Putting on a scared but strong face, he held up the gold box to the guard. "H-H-Here, for...y-y-you." He tried hard not o look away.

8 took the box without snatching. He opened the box, his unimpressed look dissolved in seconds.

"Huh?," he muttered. He picked up a knife. A pocket knife. He pulled out the blade and ran his hand across, as though trying to prove it was real. "Heh. Wow." 8 swung the knife, carful not to strike 6. "I love it," he said. "Thanks, 6."

"Ngnnn," muttered 6, gripping his key. "You're...you're welcome." He quickly shuffled back to his seat, grateful to have ended the gift exchange.

_That certainly took a lot out of him_, thought 1, keeping his optics on the striped artist. He looked over at his gift for 9. He rehearsed his plan in his head as he watched 8 give 5 his present.

_Whoever got me as their recipient, it should make things easier._

He glanced up at 4 getting her gift. A small music box, round in shape, made of porcelain with a floral sculpted pattern. 4 opened it and in it a ballerina with a mirror under the lid.

_The sooner I give 9 his gift, the better. It was certainly nice of 2 to get the music box for 4. It actually looks beautiful._

4 winded up the music box. The melody it played was beautiful. The tone wasn't too loud, and 1 found himself enjoying it.

As he listened to the music, 1 watched the events unfold. Soon enough, the gift-giving seemed to be coming to a close. To his surprise, 5 got 3 as his secret Santa. His gift to the hooded stitchpunk was a small notebook that had a chain and a loop connected to it. The young stitchpunk expressed his gratitude and looked forward to writing in it; the first thing he was going to write was how much he loved his family.

The elder stitchpunk lightly smiled. It's good to see him happy.

A voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"1?," spoke 5.

The elder glanced up in confusion. He blinked.

"Sorry," said 1, "I got...distracted." He finally noticed everyone else had their optics planted on him.

"Well," said 5, "you and 9 are the only ones left."

"Huh?" said 1. He glanced at everyone and spotted 9 holding a small red box. The zippered stitchpunk approached him, handing him the box.

"Open it," said the one-eyed stitchpunk.

The elder stitchpunk opened the box. To his utter bemusement, his present was what he hadn't expected. It was a cape. It was smoky gray, made of velvet and, most of all, it's brooch gave off a glint. 1 loved it.

"Thank you, 9, this is...thoughtful." 1 took the cape out of the box and slipped it on.

"That looks nice," commented 7, arching a stitched brow.

"Let's see what you got 9," said 5.

"Oh, right." The elder stitchpunk picked up the gold box and face 9, offering the present to the zippered stitchpunk. 9 took it.

1 watched the zippered male open his present. 9's pupils widened as he held up the necklace.

"Oh my..."

3 and 4 sidled over to 9, flickering their optics in wonderment. 1 felt he had to say something.

"I made it," he said as a start. "I found the diamond in the Emptiness, and tied the silver chain around." He let out a sigh. "I put a lot of thought into it. I...I hope you like it."

9 was almost at a loss for words himself. "This is...this is great." He examined the beautiful diamond. "Thank you," he said as he faced 1.

"You're welcome," said 1.

9 put the necklace on, the diamond throwing the light off in a glint. It looked more beautiful when he wore it.

3 and 4 crept over to 7, who gently tugged on her arms. They pointed at the open entrance. 7 looked over her shoulder and understood what they were saying.

"The twins want to go outside," she said to everyone. Looking down at her dress, she added, "I'd better take this off, so I don't get it dirty."

"No, leave it on," interrupted 8. 7 snapped her head to him, arching a brow. "Uh, I—" 8 fumbled with his words. "I... I like the way it...looks on you."

7 shook her head, smirking. "Alright, big guy," she retorted. "Only because you like it."

The group walked towards the entrance, eager to get out into the snow. Just as 9 was about to join them, 1 caught up to him.

"Wait, 9," he said. The zippered stitchpunk turned around.

"Yes?"

"I...need to talk to you."

"Alright."

This was it. The moment he'd been waited for. The moment he was going to let it all out. 1 braced himself.

But before he could speak, 9 spoke out first.

"Before you say anything, I want to let you know something," he said.

The elder stitchpunk blinked in confusion. He had waited days for this moment, dreading it even, but still, this didn't mean he had to be rude.

"All right," said 1, not sure how to react to this.

"Okay." 9 grasped at anything to find his voice. Anyone could see that he was struggling, even more so than 1.

"You see," began the zippered stitchpunk. "I...I actually got 3 as my secret Santa."

1 raised his brows. This was an interesting turn of events.

"I asked around and found out 5 got you as his," explained 9. "I asked him to switch with me. And after him asking me why, and I just told him everything and now I'm going to you."

Tension rose between the two and 9 couldn't find himself to say it quicker.

"I...I," 9 said nervously. Exasperated, he blurted it out without so much as a warning. "I'm in love with you!"

1 stood still like a statue. Was he hearing this right? He didn't know what to believe. Was 9 truly meaning this? Or was he dreaming this? No, no, for all he knew he was fully awake and fully aware. And he heard every word 9 said.

"I...I.." 9 panted. He didn't think he'd be so out of breath. "I love you, 1. I know you might not feel the same, it's okay, really. I..." He sighed, downcast.

1 stepped closer to 9. This wasn't exactly the plan he had, but finding out like this made it all the better. He pulled 9 closer to him, pressing his lips against 9's. Heat rose in both of them, like a rage fire. When they pulled away, both asked at each other, their expressions unreadable.

"You...?" 9's voice cracked.

"I do," said 1.

"Oh God."

"I, listen—"

"I..."

The two stood, silent. Neither of them knew what to say. Honestly, neither knew what to say, or if they should say anything at all.

"9, you don't know how much this means to me," uttered 1, loosening his grip on 9's arms. His hands slid down to hold the zippered male's hands in his own. "I spent days trying to figure out how to tell you."

"So did I," said 9. "I was afraid you weren't going to feel the same way."

"I thought the same as well," retorted 1.

A moment passed in silence.

"Do you think—Are we crazy about—"

"No. I don't think we are."

9 slumped his shoulders, a whirlwind of emotions taking over him.

"9, I know this is...strange for the both of us," said 1. "And I don't want us to rush into things."

"Why not?" 9 quipped. "I think we've waited long enough."

1 couldn't contradict that. "Heh, well, that is true, after all."

9 pulled 1 into a kiss. Behind them, the Christmas tree shined with the glimmer of the shiny tinsel and baubles.

"Come," said 9. 1 smiled and followed the zippered stitchpunk to the entrance. 9 picked out a long coat, black with small buttons. The two walked down the stone steps.

Upon reaching the bottom, 1 took 9's hand in his, planting a kiss on his cheek. 9 turned to him, a smile across his lips. The two shared another kiss, the wind blew, though neither cared.

For just that moment, it was just them, the snow, the cold breeze and the love.

A few yards off, a few optics were on them.

"Look at them," quipped 7. "It's nice to see them finally together."

"I know," said 5, sidling toward her and 8. The one-eyes stitchpunk took in 7's wardrobe: a white fur shawl over the silver dress. "You know, that looks nice on you."

"Thank you." 7 leaned against 8, her head pressed against his chest. 8 wrapped his arm around her, nuzzling his chin onto her head.

7 swiveled around, catching 6 standing behind 4, his optics resting on a certain one-eyed stitchpunk. 7 smirked and tapped 5's arm.

"Looks like someone's making eyes at ya," she quipped.

5 turned in the direction 7 was pointed and locked optics with 6, both feeling as shy as the other. 4 and her brother quietly giggled, their hands over their mouths. 8 and 7 shared a few muffled chuckles.

"Go over there and show em some love," teased 7. 8 let out a hearty laugh

Snow rained from the sky, promising to bring more beautiful winters in the coming futures.

* * *

**That's that. ^_^ I've always wanted to try this out for size. Just to try it. Well, Merry Christmas. :) **


End file.
